Book 4: AIR  Things We Lost in the Fire
by starsngarters
Summary: Starting after the series finale.  Zuko tries to find his mother, Aang/Katara go to rebuild the South Pole, and Azula plots to take back the Fire Nation, if she can keep it together that long.  A villain schemes from the shadows.
1. Prologue

Prologue: Starting with Goodbyes

"You're going to tell me where my mother is" Zuko threatened.

In the dark corner of the prison cell, former Firelord Ozai's lips curled upward in an evil smile.

2 Days Later

Everyone had gathered together to celebrate their victory.

"So, where are you going after this?" Suki asked.

Toph looked down at the floor even more than usual, if that were possible. "I don't know. Home, I guess."

"No way!" Sokka exclaimed. "They treat you like a... like a..."

"Like a blind person?" Toph finished.

Sokka intervened on Suki's behalf - "Well...yeah! You've gotta come with us to the South Pole. You can meet Gran Gran and eat blubbered seal jerky, and..."

"News flash!" Toph interrupted. "Blind girl sees using earthbending. There is no earth at the South Pole!" She waved her hand in front of her eyes.

Sokka stood there looking confused, momentarily silenced.

"I'm going to find my mother," Zuko offered quietly into the lull in the conversation.

"That's great, Zuko." said Katara. "How did you find her?"

"I haven't yet. My father sent her away. He says she's on an island. He's taking me there."

"WHAAT!" exclaimed Sokka, jumping up and down and waving his arms frantically. "You can't let him out of prison!"

"I don't have a choice. The island isn't on any maps. He's the only one who can show me the way there."

"That's a bad idea," Aang interjected informationally.

"I'll say!" said Katara. "He nearly killed Aang, and tried to destroy half the world! Have you forgotten what he did to _you_?"

"I will never forget!" said Zuko passionately, and his hand wandered to his scar without his even knowing it. "But my mother..."

"I'll go with you" Sokka volunteered.

"Wait. I thought you were coming back to the South Pole with me and Aang?" said Katara.

"Yeeeeeah. Well... I don't trust the Phoenix King. Besides, you're gonna need some backup."

"He's not the Phoenix King anymore," said Zuko. "He can't firebend."

"When we fought, I touched his mind," said Aang. "He doesn't care for anything or anybody. He only cares about power." As Aang stared out into the distance, Katara could tell he was re-living the experience in his mind.

"Right." Sokka's clipped word interrupted Aang's thought process. "You..."

"I can take care of myself!" Zuko shouted.

"But you..." Sokka started again.

"I've been taking care of myself since I was 13!"

"You..."

"I was commanding a fire navy ship at 14! Believe me, I know my way around the world!"

"Are you done?" Sokka asked sardonically.

Zuko blinked. "Wellllllll...yeah, I guess..."

"Good, cuz you're going to need to get an air balloon for us to travel in. And, have you given any thought to who's going to be in charge in the fire nation while you're away?"

Azula was angry. Well, angrier than usual, she mused to herself. As a member of the royal family of the fire nation, there was always a certain fire that burned in her. And, if she were being honest with herself, the flames of her rage burned hotter than most people's. It was why the fire she created came out blue – the hottest flames.

"And what is it that you're angry about?" her mother asked from the corner of her cell.

"You're not real." Azula answered towards the empty corner of the cell, her twitching eye the only outward indication that Azula was angry.

The blue ocean of fire inside Azula rose higher, threatening to consume her. Azula focused her mind, envisioning herself rising above the the flames to the purpose at hand. For as long as she could remember, that reservoir had been there – a limitless source of energy for her firebending.


	2. Just Where the Heck are We Going?

Chapter 1: Just Where the Heck are We Going?

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Firelord Ozai approached the war balloon where Zuko, Sokka, and Toph were making preparations. To his right and left were two Fire Nation soldiers, escorting him, as they might have at any time during his reign.

Two very intimidated looking soldiers, Zuko thought disapprovingly. Father, for his part, looked a bit like the cat who ate the canary. His lip bent sideways in a self-assured smile that showed he was clearly enjoying how he was intimidating the soldiers. Only the set of manacles on his wrists betrayed the fact that he was no longer in charge of this entourage.

Sokka recoiled visibly as he registered the presence of the self-proclaimed Phoenix King.

"Are you suuure this is a good idea? I mean, we managed to travel around the world, plan an invasion, and defeat... hiiim... without his help" Sokka stammered, waiving a finger in Ozai's general direction, clearly unnerved at the presence of the once-king.

Zuko sighed. "We need him. I can't find my mother without his directions."

Toph stood at the ready, fists clenched to her side, as if she were daring him to make some sudden movement.

"Where is she? Where are we going?" Zuko's looks had often been described as dark and intense, but he somehow became more so.

Ozai simply stared the whole group down, with the same evil smirk glued to his face. Suddenly lurching forward, he strutted into the balloon, before turning back to them. "Are your friends coming?"

Toph returned to her ritual of saying goodbye to solid ground. "I HATE FLYING. How did I end up back in the sky?" She twisted her feet into the dirt, and the dirt twisted itself back up into her feet, as though it were alive, and perhaps some beloved pet, returning her affection. "Goodbye, terra firma!"

And with that, Toph entered the balloon, huddling down into a ball, and somehow found a corner even though the basket was circular.

Sokka paced back and forth, staring sideways at Ozai, before entering the basket. "I've got my eye on you! You try anything, and you're going down! And I don't just mean down. I mean, like... wheeee-ew-whee-ew-wheeeeeeewww... splat!" Sokka illustrated his threat with some colorful hand motions and sound effects.

Ozai seemed to be restraining laughter. "Perhaps you could do the honors," Ozai suggested in Zuko's direction, indicating that he should heat the air in the balloon. "I find myself... unable... at the moment." For a moment, the malevolent grin faltered, and something even less pleasant replaced it.

And then Zuko was firebending, and the balloon was filling, and 3 heroes found themselves skyward bound, with a villain in tow.

###################

Azula was meditating.

In her mind, she floated above the all-consuming blazing blue flames that represented her rage, her anger, and her hatred.

Azula hated meditation.

Meditation was so unlike firebending. In firebending, she simply tapped into that limitless source of energy - her anger - and let it consume her consciousness. She could funnel it towards whatever it was that needed to die. Firebending let her push - forwards, always forwards, through whatever it was that stood in her way. And, it let her release some of the anger, and then the flames in her mind would burn lower. Firebending was release.

Meditation, on the other hand, was all about standing still, and clearing the mind. And she hated standing still. Particularly since she had been standing still for the last 5 days. One might think it was easy to stand still when one was chained to a wall. One would be wrong. Dead wrong.

Still, meditation was what was needed. Lightning called for precision, and lightning was needed for escape. She had formulated the move in her mind. Unfortunately, she couldn't practice it, so she had to get it right the first time. Either that or she would blow her hands off.

The move she had devised in her mind was impossible. Well... impossible for anyone who wasn't a 3rd generation firebending prodigy of royal blood. At 14 she had attained the master's rank by creating her own unique move - a full flip in midair after which she fired a double-stream of flames from her feet.

This time, she would need to manufacture lightning, and direct it... with her feet. And she would need to blow up the section of wall between where her hands were fastened. Without blowing up her hands of course. It was really quite impossible.

Azula smiled.

###################

Katara had the feeling that everything was wrong in the world, which didn't make sense to her in the least.

The Firelord was defeated, the Water Tribe was in the process of being restored, and even the Earth King had been coaxed off his bear, and back to Ba Sing Se to take his place on the throne of the earth kingdom. Everything should feel right. Everything was right.

Here she was in a familiar place, atop the saddle of Apa, Aang's life partner and the gentlest 10-ton beast one could ever hope to fly on. Aang and Apa were happy to be in the sky, working together to manipulate air currents around them to keep Apa in flight.

Bison. Life partner. Working together. … Katara furrowed her brow. Was it possible to be jealous of a great, hairy, flying cow?

Katara decided that it was *not* possible to be jealous of anything that shed as much as Apa did.

"How much longer to the South Pole?" Her words were lost in the wind. She edged up to the front of the saddle, and leaned towards Aang.

"How long will it take us before we get to the South Pole?"

"What! I can't hear you over the wind!" Aang shouted back towards her, his words extra loud as the wind carried them towards her.

"HOW MUCH FURTHER TO THE SOUTH POLE?"

The wind around them suddenly calmed itself as Aang replied in a normal voice.

"It's going to take us a couple days, at least. I figure we can spend tonight near the southern limit of the Fire Nation, maybe at Fire Fountain City, and tomorrow night we can sleep at the Southern Air Temple."

"I can't wait to get started rebuilding our town."


	3. Full of Hot Air

Chapter 2: Full of Hot Air

"Father!" Zuko bellowed to the man across the balloon.

Ozai merely arched an eyebrow at his son in response.

"Where are we going?" "Where is my mother?"

Ozai turned his attention somewhere outside the balloon, away from the sun, towards where the sky was darkening. The whole world seemed to stop, sunset waiting expectantly for his answer. #As it should be# Ozai thought.

"East." he finally answered, before letting another deep pause overtake his captive audience.

Zuko's face got redder with each second that passed. "East? East? What do you mean, 'EAST?'" "WHERE EAST?"

"Heeeeeeee's not going to tell ya..." Sokka interjected with an air of knowing. "He's the bad guy, remember?"

"Well, if I tell you everything now, that doesn't leave you with much reason to keep me around now, does it?" Ozai mused logically, before turning directly to Sokka. "I see you aren't entirely stupid."

"WHAT!" Sokka's detached demeanor evaporated instantly. "You! And! But.. And..."

As words failed him, Sokka now resorted to hand gestures, as one hand, presumably playing Ozai, took a long fall off the balloon, before hitting the ground. "Phweeeeeeee ewww whee ewwww wheeee!" "SPLAT!" Sokka leaned in to glare at Ozai, giving him a comically exaggerated evil eye, as if he had just told him off fiercely.

Zuko looked a bit confused by Sokka's display, and Ozai pressed the advantage, goading his son.

"Is that what you want? Do you think you can kill me? Do you have the mettle to kill your own father? It would make it awfully hard to find your mother."

But before Zuko could raise his fist, a tiny hand caught his wrist.

"Wait! Are you trying to kill us all?" Toph shouted to Zuko, struggling to be heard over the noise of the whipping wind, and the raging inferno beside them. "You've got to get the fire under control." 

Zuko was startled by the realization that the balloon had ascended far too high into the sky. In his anger, he had failed to regulate the temperature of the air in the balloon. Now they were soaring far higher than the limits of what the balloon had been designed to withstand. Dangerous high altitude currents of wind whipped the basket back and forth dangerously, there under the red emblazoned balloon.

Sokka leapt into action, grabbing a free-swinging rope, attempting to stabilize the basket. Toph gripped Zuko as though she were an anchor that could keep him in the basket.

And Ozai... Ozai laughed maniacally, his beard and hair wild in the wind, yellow eyes flashing, delighted at the prospect of danger.

"Do you really think you have what it takes!" Ozai taunted. "Do you think all these people will just obey you? Will they respect you? Do they fear you, like they fear me?"

#Focus# Zuko mentally steeled himself, willing the flame back down to a lesser level, even as the insults and barbs his father flung pierced him. #Focus# The flame rose higher.

Suddenly, he could hear his Uncle Iroh in the back of his mind, saying #You have to learn to con-trol the flames. Relax.#

#Relax.# And Zuko let go. He did the thing that seemed least likely to work... he stopped trying. Stopped trying to force the flames down. Stopped trying to shut out his father's voice. Stopped pushing against the wind. Just stopped.

And the minute he stopped pouring energy into it, the tower of flames that raged, pulling them upwards into the sky, puffed, and blinked, and died, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Ozai's mad laughter died along with the fire. For a moment only Zuko and Ozai existed, both suddenly coming down from a high bred of adrenaline and uncontrolled fire. Both suddenly sober, dispassionate, looking at each other across space. Ozai's smile was gone now, and he inclined his head slightly to one side, arching an eyebrow, and then nodded, ever so slightly, in Zuko's direction.


	4. Prison Break

Chapter 3: Jailbreak!

Azula blinked in surprise, and noted with detachment that she was experiencing blinding pain, emanating from multiple points in her body. Normally, this would enrage her, but at the moment, she was involved in performing a precise fire-bending move, which she had just invented, and a clear head was essential to not blowing herself up. Well, if she hadn't already.

She had managed to separate the energies necessary to create lightning, with her feet, without much trouble. Guiding the energies with her feet was clumsier than using her hands, but she was sure that she had them going in the right direction. The critical part - the tricky part - was of course getting the energies to reunite at the right place, and completely. The energies were naturally attracted to each other, and simply moving them closer together and letting the energies crash back together on their own, would result in an explosion. If that happened, it would likely blow her hands off, since they were chained to the wall on either side of the point at which she was aiming. Had she forced them together quickly enough? Had she re-combined them fast enough to produce lightning. Yes. And yes.

As her vision returned from the white flash of pain, she took stock of her injuries. Her hands were still attached, she noted with some relief. BETTER, they were no longer chained to the wall. The wall no longer existed. #I'm FREE# A smile threatened to cross Azula's lips, but was cut short by more blinding pain from the left side of her face.

_#That... is a problem#_

A thousand white-hot shards of some sort of metallic rock had imbedded themselves up and down Azula's forearms, across her throat, and across the half of her face that had been turned towards the explosion. They were still burning hot, and each gave off a bright white light. Small streams of light shone out of Azula's wounds.

_#As if I were a Spirit! Am I dead?#_

All at once, her sense of smell came back, and she was nearly overcome by the nauseating smell of burning flesh. #MY burning flesh# The lights from her little wounds started to blink out, each replaced by a tiny flame of red fire, which lasted only a second before puffing out of existence entirely. She didn't think she was dead, but it didn't really hurt either. And there wasn't much blood. The intense heat of the incandescent metal fragments had cauterized each wound instantly. Most of the fragments were tiny, and hadn't penetrated much below her skin. Azula decided she was going to live. Well, assuming she was right about being alive right now.

A pair of fire nation soldiers crashed into each other, and her cell door, fumbling frantically with the keys to the cell. Azula pushed herself up off the floor fast. Unfortunately, it was too fast, and she found herself right back on the floor in agonizing pain.

_#Moving... **Hurts!**#_

Through gritted teeth, Azula forced herself forward, now on hands and knees, towards the gaping hole that now served as the wall of her cell. The soldiers were through the door now. She pushed herself at the hole, but a soldier's hand closed around her foot, before she could fall head first out of the hole. She turned towards the soldiers, who each had one of her legs now. Rage returned to her now, at the though of the impropriety. Common soldiers – manhandling her – _**her!**_ - like she was so much meat! Electric blue flames danced dangerously in Azula's eyes.

Ignoring the pain of her wounds, Azula swept her arms out to the sides, and rent the energies between the soldiers apart. The soldiers stopped, all-at-once, as they felt all the hair on their arms and legs suddenly stand on end. Then Azula let the energy crash back together, not so carefully this time.

The soldiers bore the brunt of the explosion, while Azula was blown neatly through the hole in the wall. The soldiers hit the remaining wall on either side of the hole with a sickening smack. Battered, half-conscious, and pierced all over, Azula hit the ground, rolled limply through the dirt, and rammed hard into the side of a water trough, which broke, dousing her entire body in water. She came up gasping for air, and heard her name.

"Azula! Azula! Wake up!"

Her mother's voice came to her, clear, strong, and urgent. Azula's vision swam as she sat up. When the kaleidoscope of colors finally coalesced into something, it was familiar. Her mother was stooped over, shouting down to her. Also, she was transparent. That was also familiar.

"Not... real..." Azula groaned in the general direction of the apparition.

"You've got to GO!"

The horse, which had been drinking at the trough, chose this moment to whinny loudly and back away, which was convenient enough. Azula dragged herself to the horse, then dragged herself to her feet using the horse's reigns, and finally dragged herself across the horse's back.

With her head and arms hung off one side of the saddle, and her legs off the other, her bottom was raised high in the air in a way that no princess should ever have to endure. But Azula was too bleary, too hurt, to care. Azula's mother was shouting and urging her along, as the horse made it's way out of the gates of the prison yard at a trot. The last thing Azula remembered before she passed out, was thinking to herself that at least she had a good excuse for seeing things this time.

#######################################

A faraway voice beckoned Azula from her sleep. Someone was singing quietly to themself.

"mother?" she asked weakly, awakening someplace she didn't recognize. _#It would be nice if **that** would stop happening.#_

"You awake?"

"Where-"

"Don't you worry about that, now," answered a woman who appeared to be some sort of peasant, or perhaps farmer. "You're gonna be ok. Nasty wounds, though. Guess you escaped from the prison."

Alarmed, Azula tried to sit up too fast, and once again found herself on her back, out of breath. _#It would be nice if that would stop happening, too.#_

"Now don't you worry none about that, either. We aren't planning to send you back there. Way I figure it, you ended up there, you probably did something to piss of... hiiiim..."

Here the farm-woman motioned towards the mandatory portrait of firelord Ozai which hung at the appropriate height on the wall of the 1-room farmhouse. Azula blinked back her confusion. Apparently, the woman didn't know who she was, which was a new experience for Azula.

"We aren't big fans, and rumor is, the Avatar has defeated the firelord."

The woman was apparently woefully underinformed.

"True or not, you can't stay here long, the soldiers will be along in a day or so."

Azula's hand wandered up to her face. Smooth, perfectly manicured fingertips ran over the surface of her face. Horrified, she found tiny pits, with taut, bumpy stretches of burned, raw, scarring skin tracking away from them, interrupting her perfect complexion and china-doll features.

"I hate to move you so soon. You've obviously been through an ordeal. You have a couple cracked ribs I'll wager, and..."

"My face...?"

"What's that? Oh..."

The farm-woman stopped now, and looked down at Azula with a sad sort of look that Azula didn't recognize. "You poor thing. I'm afraid you'll have some scars, there. It's not so bad, now, though. Really, doesn't everybody have a few scars from this damned war."

The kind woman here turned for a second, and came back with a hand mirror. She stopped short of handing it to Azula, though, and half-offered it to her, as though she might not want to look.

Azula snatched the mirror from her hand, and turned it to her face. Dozens of angry red marks tracked up across her face, like tiger stripes.

"The important thing..." the woman continued, "is that you made it through."

Tears leaked from Azula's eyes. One ran straight down a smooth cheek. The other criss-crossed its way down a rougher terrain, leaving the sting of salt in its wake.

"What we're going to do, is help you to go somewhere where the soldier's can't find you."

_#WEAK!#_ Azula hated herself for being so weak as to cry.

"We know a man who operates a ship. You're in luck – he's just come back at the town. He can take you away, to the provinces."

More was said, but Azula wasn't listening anymore. Her body shook as she struggled to suppress sobs for long minutes afterwards.

To be continued...


	5. Fire Fountain City

#Thoughts are between # signs like this#

Standard disclaimers apply. Don't sue me!

Chapter 4: Fire Fountain City

"I'm really looking forward to spending a night alone, just the two of us," Katara said.

"And Apa," said Aang.

"Oh, well, yeah..." sputtered Katara. "Of course. Apa." *sigh*

"We should be there soon. Look! I can see the smoke from Fire Fountain City's fountain already!"

A trail of blackest-black smoke rose from the horizon up to the sky, where it culminated in a dirty-looking cloud stretching out towards the edges of the world.

"Yuck! Do you think we should get rid of the statue of Firelord Ozai?" Katara asked.

"I don't know... the fountain has been a point of pride for the people of the city for a long time. They may not appreciate the Avatar just showing up and destroying it."

Katara had privately taken to calling this part of her boyfriend's personality "Monk Aang." #The pacifist and teenage philosopher.# Once upon a time, Katara had called him the wisest twelve year old she had ever met. She respected this part of him, but it could sometimes be a bit aloof.

"What if they don't appreciate the Avatar showing up at all?" she worried towards him.

"I don't think that'll be a problem." The young Avatar seemed hopelessly upbeat as he flashed her an unconcerned smile.

#On the other hand, sometimes he can still be that naive kid I broke out of the ice.#

"I think... I think something's wrong."

Katara came back to herself to see what Aang was talking about. The little black trail of smoke had become a towering column of roiling soot and exhaust fumes, which were now starting to choke the air around them.

"RAAAAAAUUGH!" Apa's growl literally shook Katara out of her daze.

"It's ok, boy!" Aang leapt into action, spinning his staff over his head, as he created a spike of air out in front of them.

"We've got to get out of this smoke!" shouted Aang. "It's choking Apa!"

Katara's eyes watered as the three of them began a terrifying dive towards earth, that was more falling than flying.

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If there was a bright side to nearly falling to their death out of the smoky skies, it was that Aang would finally be spending some time with just Katara. Apa was left to recover under a large elm-nut tree just outside town, and the two of them set off towards the dead center of the city, where the fountain was, and where the tremendous cloud of black smoke was originating from. But if Katara had been envisioning a pleasant walk and talk, those expectations were quickly crushed.

Fire Fountain City had always been just a little bit seedy, with it's year-round Carnival, it's street gambling games, and the constant stream of sailors passing through, but it was in a fun, slightly dangerous way. The real squalor had always been suppressed by the military order imposed by the ever-present Fire Navy sailors and soldiers, or hidden beneath the garish advertisements and bright lights of the flaming attractions throughout the city.

Things appeared to have changed for the worse. As they made their way, Aang saw many small fires burning here and there, some number of burnt-out shops and stalls, and tell-tale plumes of smoke rose from the surrounding neighborhoods, looking as though they might be the offspring of the much larger pillar of opaque black smoke radiating from the center of town. Katara covered her mouth when they came upon a group of gaunt and grimy boys playing some sort of cruel game with a fox-squirrel.

"I can't believe how much it's changed," Aang whispered towards Katara, remembering happier days in which he, Toph and Sokka had scammed the various gamblers here on these streets.

"I don't feel safe here," Katara confided to Aang, using her eyes to point his attention to a couple burly-looking men at the door of one of the buildings who were clearly eye-ing them.

"Just keep walking," Aang instructed, and the two of them continued forward, looking a little stiff and forced as they tried not to look conspicuous. The two men walked out onto the street, falling in a little behind them. Aang and Katara shared a look, but it wasn't the kind Katara had been hoping to share with him earlier.

From ahead of them, a skinny merchant shouted at a couple of much larger men.

"HEY! YOU CAN'T HAVE THOSE! THOSE ARE MINE!"

One of the men tossed him aside as though he were a rag-doll. The other created a fire in the palm of his hand, and laughed as he set the merchant's cart full of vegetables on fire.

"NOOOOO! MY CABBAGES!"

"Come on!" shouted Aang, "we have to help that man!" and he took off at a sprint ahead of Katara, who was about to follow when a large hand closed on her shoulder.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in- HURFF!"

The thug's attempt at a subtle threat was cut short as the ball of Katara's foot made solid contact with his solar plexis. She quickly twisted away from his grasp, and ran in the direction of the other fight.

Aang was attempting to reason with the other two ruffians, dodging here and there as they were trying to blow him up. The one was bending bursts of flame towards him, and the other was throwing some sort of exploding balls towards him.

"If you could - please - stop that - for just a second," he shouted to them, dodging three blasts.

"Aang! We have to fight!" She took a place at his back, turning to face the two thugs who had pursued her up the street. One of them was visibly enraged, and still a bit stooped over.

"Get down!" Aang ordered, as he spun in a bending move. Katara dropped just in time, as Aang bent two incoming fire blasts into a circle around them, then snuffed them in an implosion of air which he allowed to blow out in all directions. The four thugs were knocked off their feet. The one man's satchel full of homemade bombs flew into the air, landing right in the center of a cart full of burning cabbages.

The thin thug with the thin greasy mustache looked up with wide eyes. "Oh, sh-"

BOOOOOOOM! The force of the explosion forced Aang and Katara to shield their eyes, and blew two of the thugs across the street.

"MY CABBAGES!" screamed the merchant, who had been forgotten in the fight.

A group of fire nation soldiers exited several of the local buildings, evidently clued-in to the street fight by the sound of the explosion.

The two remaining thugs who were busy picking themselves off the ground made a hasty retreat down a narrow side street, not wanting to deal with the authorities.

"What's going on here!" barked a tall soldier with an unshaven face and faded tattoos on his arms.

"Thank goodness you're here..." began Katara.

"THEY DESTROYED MY CAAAABBAAAAAGES!" wailed the Cabbage Merchant.

"Is that true?"

"No! Well... yes... but we were trying to..."

"YES! But not just today, they ALWAYS destroy my cabbages. Officer, these people have been following me from city to city, destroying all my cabbages, wherever I go! I can't get AWAY from them!"

Everyone looked at each other, some looking confused, some raising their eyebrows. Aang rubbed the back of his head and stared at the ground. The Cabbage Merchant was crying and cradling the one cabbage that had somehow made it through the entire ordeal untouched as though it were his most precious possession.

"I think... you should come with us," the soldier finally said.

"This is all a misunderstanding." Katara attempted to smooth things over.

"Yes, see... I'm the Avatar," Aang began.

"The Avatar? You'd definitely better come with us!" concluded the soldier, suddenly looking less friendly.

Was it her imagination, or had the group of soldiers suddenly gotten taller, more attentive? More aggressive? Katara didn't like the way the group was suddenly looking at them, distrustfully. Whispers passed through the group, which had now fanned out to circle them.

Aang suddenly held up his hands.

"We'll go with you. We don't want any trouble. I'm sure this whole thing can be explained if we just sit down and talk. I'm a big believer in non-violent resolution."

Katara somehow doubted that the soldiers shared Aang's sentiment.

"This way!" the head soldier barked, and set out up the street. At least he was going the same direction they were trying to go.


	6. The Wabar

#thoughts# are between hash tags like this

Chapter 5: The Wabar

"This is a waste of time," said Zuko gruffly.

"It was on the way," Sokka replied glibly, knowing that Zuko didn't really object to what they were doing. After all, he had already agreed to it. "Besides, it's not exactly like we know exactly where we're going."

Zuko's brow creased at the comment, but he held his tongue.

Suddenly, and together, Zuko and Sokka leapt out of the balloon and down to the ground, where they drove sturdy spikes into the earth, and wound a thick rope around each. They each pulled their rope, bringing the War Balloon down to the ground with a thump, before tying off the rope so that the balloon would stay put.

"Earth!" Toph cried, as she jumped from the balloon, landing on all fours, and gouging her feet and hands into the soft loamy soil of the valley. "I have got to stop hanging out with people who fly everywhere," she deadpanned, as she worked here toes and fingers back and forth through the earth, enjoying the cool feeling of freshly upturned earth between her digits.

Ozai was last to dismount the balloon, and he stared at Toph's overt show of affection for the dirt with puzzlement. Affection didn't come naturally to Ozai, and he looked momentarily scandalized, unsure for a moment how to react to this sort of behavior. His face eventually settled on something that Zuko interpreted as disgust.

"Shu Jing is still a mile that way," said Zuko, consulting a map scroll.

"Yeeees. But the meteorite should be in this area," said Sokka. "There should be a big trench where it hit the ground right around here."

Zuko and Ozai looked around at the unbroken grass on the hills around them. Then they looked at Sokka, waiting for an explanation.

"It's over there," interjected Toph. "I can feel the rut."

A small gap in the top of the nearest hill was the only hint of trauma. Nobody would have guessed the violence of the fiery impact there a few months earlier.

"The earth is healing itself," Toph put in quietly.

"Right over here!" Sokka charged up the hill. "Ha!..whaaaaa?"

As the others crested the hill, they saw what Sokka had seen. A slate grey building stood over the spot where the meteor had remained. Pitched along the rut on the way to the meteor were a number of expensive-looking tents, colored with stripes of purple, turquoise, and gold.

Zuko pulled up his hood. He and Sokka left Ozai with Toph at the top of the hill. As they approached between the first two tents, they found a man sitting cross-legged before a small table, on which rested a crystal ball. His head and face were shaven clean, he wore purple robes that matched the tents, and he had a gaunt face. His eyes remained closed despite their advance.

They stopped short of the table, unsure whether they should interrupt his meditation. A moment passed. The man sighed, and he looked annoyed as he opened his black-rimmed eyes. "Yes?" he answered them.

"Um... hi..." said Sokka. "The last time we were here, there was a meteorite impact..."

"YOU WERE HERE WHEN AL-HADIDA CAME DOWN?" the man interrupted, astonished. "THAT is truly remarkable! You must come with me!" The man was up and beckoning them more quickly than one would have thought a man of his age could move.

Zuko and Sokka shared a look that screamed #UH OH# but they both followed the man back up through the lines of tents anyway, sparing a backwards glance towards where Toph and Ozai waited.

"SARIM!" shouted the bald man. "I HAVE FOUND TWO MEN WHO SAW AL-HADIDA'S DESCENT TO THE EARTH!" Several bald heads peeked out from the openings in tents to the left and right. Zuko and Sokka walked quickly, trying to keep pace, not wanting to run, but not wanting to stay in the midst of the bald-headed cultists camp any longer than absolutely necessary.

As they approached the large tent closest to the grey building, a large man emerged. Sarim had a barrel chest and the gut of a muscular man, and his face was not gaunt like the other cultists. His dark heavy eyebrows overshadowed wide cheeks and a square jaw. A series of blue dots were tattooed on each cheek. A large, curved sabre hung at his side. With the sun at his back, he literally cast a shadow upon the three men approaching him.

"What is this?" Sarim's deep voice cut through the thinner man's shouts.

Zuko stepped forward, and steepled his hands in front of him, making a short bow to the leader of the group.

"Greetings. My friend and I are travelers. On the day that the... the meteorite... fell, my friend was here. We have returned, hoping to take a piece of the meteorite for ourselves."

Sarim's face darkened ominously, like the sky before a snowstorm.

"WHAT? Do you think that Al-Hadida is something that a man should possess?"

"Well... yes." Sokka stepped forward. You see, I took a piece the last time I was here..."

"WHAAAAAATTT?" roared Sarim. "It is sacrilege!"

"I am sorry that we have offended you," Zuko intervened. "Perhaps it would be better if we left this place."

"Yes. Yes, I think that WOULD be better." Sarim's repressed rage tinged each word. "I do not think that this is a place that is fitting for ones, such as yourselves."

"Salmanu!" he addressed the thinner man, "see to it that these strangers leave this place! I will not having men strutting about here without respect for the god!"

##################

"So let me get this straight," said Toph. "They worship a rock?" 

"Yep," said Sokka.

"I think we insulted them," said Zuko, "by asking for a piece of their god."

"They worship... A rock? That's awesome!"

"That's crazy!"

"Some of my best friends are rocks!"

Everyone stared at Toph as if she had lost her mind. Then, Ozai burst out laughing at them. It was a humorless laugh.

"You all are pathetic!" said Ozai. "You're afraid of a little band of magicians?" He guffawed, and looked pointedly at Zuko. "If you want it, just go take it! You rule this land, do you not? If they will not obey you, let them know your power!"

"They had swords," offered Sokka lamely.

Zuko opened his mouth to reply, but Toph cut him off.

"What if we could get a piece of the meteorite, without them even knowing it?"

Everyone waited for her to explain.

"Zuko and I could sneak down to their camp in the middle of the night. I could bend a piece of the meteorite off, and make it to look like nothing was even missing!"

Ozai continued to push Zuko. "So you're going to go sneaking around these little men? What kind of Firelord are you, that you are afraid of your own subjects? You have no idea what power is, or how to use it!"

Zuko's composure evaporated. "Just because I don't go around bullying everyone doesn't make me weak!" he shouted back.

"It doesn't make you strong!" countered Ozai.

"I've had it with your constant criticism!"

"Then do something about it!...if you're man enough..."

A primal growl escaped Zuko's lips as he dropped into a fighting stance.

"Zuko," said Toph calmly.

Zuko snarled again, but left his fighting stance. Ozai continued.

"Why are you so afraid of using your anger? Do you not know your inheritance? Rage is fire! Fire is rage! This is the first lesson of fire-bending. Have you become so tamed by these 'friends' of yours that you have forgotten who you are?"

"No," said Zuko darkly. "I have found another way. Fire is life. Fire is energy. Fire is determination. I have unlearned the lessons of my childhood. I am... a different man."

"You're not a man at all!" spat Ozai, right before Sokka hit him in the back of the head with the hilt of a small dagger.

"Man! Was anybody else tired of listening to that guy?" said Sokka.

"Rrrraaaaaghhh!"

"Listen, Toph's plan is a good one," continued Sokka, ignoring Zuko's growl. "We can come down the hill behind impact site tonight, and they'll never even know that we were there."

"Fine." Zuko stormed out of the tent without looking back.

##################

#The grey building isn't well guarded# thought Zuko from behind his mask. #Perhaps they think their god can take care of himself.#

In fact, it wasn't really guarded at all. No guard waited at the entrance for them. The 3 shadowy figures slunk down the embankment behind the building and crept towards the entrance.

In the nave of the grey building, the masked Blue Spirit held up a single arm, and the other two came to an abrupt halt. An otherworldly blue-violet light shown out from inside the main room of the structure. A soft sort of rhythmic humming accompanied it.

"There's one inside," Toph whispered to her fellow thieves, "but he's sitting very still. I think he has his back to us."

"Can you bend the rock from here?"

"It would be better if I could see it. Also, the man is facing the meteor. I think he would notice."

"I can handle this," said Sokka, and he crept forward, brandishing his boomerang.

"We can't afford any noise," the blue demon admonished.

"Who knew that the dreaded Blue Spirit was also the master of the obvious?"

A bald, robed man was perched on a small wooden dais, his legs crossed beneath him. The rhythmic sound came from him, as he repeated a short phrase in an unknown language over and over again. The humming appeared to be coming from the meteorite itself.

The cultist's hands were stretched over the surface of the fallen star, and arcs of blue-violet energy made jumps between his arms and random points on its surface. If it caused him any pain, he showed no signs of it.

Sokka raised his arm and took aim, then unleashed the boomerang in a mostly straight line towards the back of the mystic's head. The boomerang found its mark at the base of his unprotected skull with a sickening CRACK. The man collapsed forward immediately.

"Did you kill him!" Zuko used a whisper that was also somehow a shout.

Sokka moved forward to examine the body. Suddenly, multiple bolts of the blue energy struck the unconscious body all over. Sokka paused, waiting until a final bolt struck the body after the rest. Then he approached quickly, hoping he hadn't done any permanent damage to the man. Laying a finger aside his neck, and grasping one wrist, Sokka paused, and counted.

"He's not dead." There was relief in his voice.

"All right," Zuko ordered, "Toph, do your thing."

The diminutive girl had already assumed her horse stance. She made several hand motions, then stopped, and cocked her head to one side. She made several other motions, this time turning a circle and stamping the ground. Nothing happened.

"What's the matter?"

She returned to her horse stance, this time with more determination, and then moved forward and laid her hands on the meteoroid. She ran her hands over the surface, where it had been burnt smooth on its descent to the earth. She suddenly thrust out both hands – palms up. Small pebbles around the edges of the space rock jumped into the air and hung there, but the meteor remained, unflinching.

"It isn't earth. I can't bend it."

"What do you mean?" said Zuko. "It's a rock."

"Yes," Toph explained, "but it isn't an EARTH rock. My connection is to the earth. Whatever this is... it isn't earth. I can't bend it."

Sokka stared at the recalcitrant stone, quizzically. He wished he had his detective hat and pipe. #Then just what is it?#

Two curved swords flashed dangerously, interrupting Sokka's contemplation. Bits of fire flashed around each one as he twirled them high to the sides of his head. Zuko brought the two swords back together, forming a single sword, as he delivered the final stroke downward to the meteorite. The night rang out with the distinct sound of metal hitting stone.

"Whatever it is, it isn't fire-proof," said Zuko, looking dangerous. His dual swords were embedded in it a good four inches, and a fine fracture had formed across the edge of it. "Let's get this piece out of here."

Toph obliged by bending the earth underneath the fallen star so that it lifted the piece out of the ground.

"Uh, guys..." said Sokka.

"Here, I've got it" Zuko jumped forward and took one side of the fragment.

"Guys!"

"Take the other side!"

"Guys, I think we have a bigger problem."

Zuko looked towards where Sokka was staring.

Sarim stood silently, with a look of pure hatred on his face. A dozen wiry-looking bald men wielded curved swords behind him. Sarim carried a heavy-looking battle mace of familiar black metal that Sokka decided would best be called a "space cudgel."

"Do you have any IDEA what you have done?" roared Sarim. "Wabar, seize them!"

Suddenly, the world was filled with chanting.

Toph moved to dispatch the whole group with a pillar of earth, but the earth didn't listen. There was only chanting in her head where the earth should have been.

Zuko prepared a flaming kick that would have felled even the strongest of warriors in such a confined space. But, his foot whiffed through the air, with not even a trace of smoke. And there was the chanting.

Sokka brained one of the chanting mystics in the head with his boomerang. That worked reasonably well.

The dozen magicians fanned out around them, chanting and brandishing their wicked sabres. Sarim held the middle, blocking the door.

Zuko turned for a moment, moving quickly, collecting his dual swords. He meant to take down Sarim, making a path to the doorway. Unfortunately, a hand closed on his ankle just as he made his feint. It was the mystic who Sokka had incapacitated earlier! Zuko failed to get inside the swinging radius of the larger man's cudgel, and instead found it flying towards his face with alarming speed. He brought up both swords in a double block, but it didn't matter. The heavy black metal drove both blades back towards Zuko, before connecting dully with the side his head. Zuko saw blue-violet stars, and then blackness.

##################

The chanting continued in Zuko's dreams.

"You with us?" Sokka asked quietly.

Zuko cracked open bleary eyes. The side of his head throbbed. He moved a hand to his head, except the hand didn't move. He was manacled to a large wooden stake. He tried to remember how that had happened. He remembered a big black stick and some chanting. Groaning, he squinted one eye shut against the glare of the firelight and the spinning stars of his head injury.

"You are awake" boomed Sarim's voice, and his head pounded with the cadence of the larger man's voice.

"We are the Wabar. We are wanderers in this earth, and servants of the god Damu, whom you have insulted. Tell me why you have done this thing, and who has sent you, and perhaps you will find mercy."

"Nobody... sent..." Zuko tried speaking, and found it wasn't as easy as he remembered.

"Liar!"

"We came here for the meteor..." Sokka tried.

"Yes, that much we know. But why? And who has sent you?"

"I had wanted to make a sword."

"You are not worthy of such a weapon, but I am sure you are telling the truth. Who has sent you?"

"I HAVE!" exclaimed a new voice, and it was not inferior to Sarim's booming voice. "I HAVE SENT THEM!"

Sokka's jaw dropped. Toph looked alarmed.

"I AM OZAI, SON OF AZULON, ONCE FIRE LORD AND PHOENIX KING, RULER OF THESE LANDS. YOU MAY HAVE HEARD THAT THE AVATAR KILLED ME. THIS IS TRUE. YET HERE I STAND, RETURNED FROM THE LAND OF THE SPIRITS."

Sarim suddenly looked frightened and small. The chanting stopped.

"YOU HAVE MY SON. RETURN HIM, AND I SHALL SPARE YOU. FAIL, AND I PROMISE YOU WILL FIND A FATE IN THE LAND OF THE SPIRITS FAR WORSE THAN DYING."

##################

It was surreal. Zuko was freed. Then Sokka and Toph, at Zuko's request, and with Ozai's permission. The Wabar objected only once, when Ozai claimed the piece of the meteorite, but quailed in the face of his wrath so completely that even this they eventually did.

The liberated group crossed over the top of the hill and then went on a couple more hills before coming to their balloon.

"How?" was all the beleaguered Zuko could muster, when they were out of earshot of the Wabar.

"You still have much to learn of authority, and the power of fear," answered Ozai. "The Wabar think that their god protects this world from evil spirits crossing over from the Spirit World."

"And you claimed to have come here from the spirit world..." finished Sokka.

"Yes. I found what they were afraid of, and I used it to make them obey me." Here Ozai turned pointedly towards Zuko. "THAT is what a REAL leader does."

For the moment, Zuko was too exhausted to fight about it.

To be continued...


	7. Gratitude

Super-short chapter this time - I plan to continue Azula's story a little further before returning to Katara and Aang, but thought I would publish this in the meantime.

#words between hash tags are thoughts#

Chapter 6: Gratitude

#Oh how the mighty have fallen!# Azula thought to herself with a combination of bemusement and bitterness.

In the absence of someone else to look down on, she directed the quote to herself. Then she pretended to see the irony in it and be amused. And then she pretended to look down on herself for finding the situation funny, when, in fact, it was not at all funny.

There was hay creeping beneath the old shirt the farm woman had given her, and it was beginning to itch.

Of course, there was always the farm-woman to despise, but she was in the front of the hay wagon driving the old horse. And, if she was being objective - and she was - the old woman had been a useful asset. The woman seemed to trust her completely, with virtually no effort on her part.

#How much further can it be?# Azula thought.

#Patience is not my best attribute# she answered herself.

#My mother always said that. I never got it. Who in the world thinks that waiting for things is a *good* thing?#

Azula paused to make sure that she was just talking to herself, and not hallucinating again. Then she paused to consider whether talking to herself was really better than talking to a figment of her imagination.

#Everyone talks to themself. As long as you don't start answering yourself, you're not crazy. Right?#

#Right# she answered herself.

Just then the hay-wagon lurched to a stop, interrupting Azula's conversation. The clump of hay that had been working its way up her shirt took the opportunity to embed itself in her navel. Azula thought murderous thoughts, about how unwise it was for something as flammable as hay to torment a master fire-bender, and pictured the wagonful of hay burning to ashes, surrounded by dancing blue flames.

"Hurry now!" the old woman urged, her voice a loud whisper.

Azula pushed herself up out of the hay quickly, and then stopped, mortified, as she came face to face with the horse's behind.

"Come on!" the old woman insisted, capering along the side of an old warehouse. Black water sloshed around below the wharf where they had stopped.

Azula pushed herself backwards, then swung her legs nimbly over the edge of the cart and slid down to the ground in a single motion. She allowed the familiar feel of anger to wash over her, at the thought of the indignity the horse had caused her.

A short sprint later, she was loaded into a large shipping container marked "Onion-Bananas." Five squalid fire-nation men and women were already packed into the container, and she was motioned onto the bench seat on one side. Her knees bumped against the knees of the man sitting across from her.

"It will be better on the boat," a swarthy man said with an apologetic smile. The container immediately lurched backwards off the dock. A pulley system held it in the air above the water as it made its way over to the waiting boat. It landed with a dull thud, and another man urged them down into the lower part of the ship.

The keep of the ship was lined with hanging bunks, between which were a number of small portholes one could use to see what was outside. There were quite a number of people there already. #Packed like hummingbird-carp in a can.#

The people kept their heads down, and their mouths shut. Azula pretended to do the same, while watching them from the corner of her eyes. She catalogued each person, deciding who might be useful and who might be dangerous. She eventually decided she was the most dangerous person there, after which she turned her attention to figuring how she could kill each of the others if it became necessary.

The sound of the steam engine roaring to life caused the whole ship to shiver. Azula relocated to one of the portholes that faced the shore.

Traveling along the shoreline was a familiar hay-wagon, led by an all-too-familiar horse. Azula's eyes narrowed as she remembered the improprieties she had suffered. Her lip twitched upward in a half-smirk.

The farm-woman gasped in alarm as a torch along the cobblestone road practically exploded to her left, raining hot embers into her wagon. The hay ignited, and the horse bucked, then took off at a gallop, whipping the little cart back and forth behind it. At first, the woman struggled to control her horse, but quickly realized she was fighting a losing battle with the panicked animal. She dived clear of the cart, injuring her shoulder in the process, wondering why fate had cursed her luck.

Azula did not watch. She stood, listening attentively to the shouts of men and the sounds of the panicking horse, and smiling.

#Vengeance is mine!#


End file.
